Something to Smile About
by Canne
Summary: [Foyle's War] “Her cheeks are even pinker now and her smile brighter than usual and he thinks that if he weren’t married to Jane, he would be tempted right now, that he would have to kiss her and let her infectious happiness spread into his life.”


**Title:** Something to Smile About  
**Fandom:** Foyle's War  
**Characters:** Samantha Stewart, Paul Milner  
**Rating:** PG  
**Summary:** "Her cheeks are even pinker now and her smile brighter than usual and he thinks that if he weren't married to Jane, he would be tempted right now, that he would have to kiss her and let her infectious happiness spread into his life."  
**Author's Notes:** Set during "Fifty Ships", before Jane returns home.

* * *

"It's awfully nice of you to put me up like this. I almost thought I was going to have to sleep in one of the cells actually. Still, that could have been rather jolly, don't you think? Pretending I was a prisoner and what."

"I think you would have found the beds rather hard and the rooms rather cold." Paul said, smiling at her.

"Couldn't have been worse than at school I daresay." Sam answered cheerfully, pulling the car up to the curb in front of his house, "Here we are then!"

Inside the house, Paul quickly showed Sam to the spare room, helping her to move several piles of boxes off the bed.

"We only moved into the house a few weeks before I was deployed." Paul explained, "Never found the time to unpack then and since I came back…"

"You've been far too busy helping Mr. Foyle." Sam said brightly, trying to divert his train of thought. Paul appreciated her efforts, but if anyone knew about the problems between him and Jane, it was Sam. There was something about her, something that made you want to confide in her. She blamed it on her father's role as Vicar, but it was something about her personality, as though even the world's worst problems could be conquered with a brisk nod of her head and an impish grin.

"Now," she dropped her bag by the bed and turned to face him, "what shall we do about dinner?"

"I think there's some chicken left in the ice box and some carrots and potatoes, of course. I'm afraid I haven't done much shopping since Jane left for her sister's." He says apologetically as they walk down the hall to the house's small kitchen.

"No well, you've been working rather hard since then haven't you? We all have really. Never thought that Hastings would be this…well, bloody for lack of a better word."

"No, it never was before the war. It was just a nice town by the sea. But I suppose these are strange times and they certainly cause people to do strange things."

"Well, it certainly makes our lives rather interesting. Much less dull than life at the Vicarage."

"Yes, I would think so." Paul laughs.

"Now, why don't you go do something else and let me fix dinner. It's the least I can do to earn my keep"

"Do you know how to cook?"

"You needn't sound so amazed." Sam retorts quickly, "I know how to sew as well. I can even clean, believe it or not."

"Quite the prodigy then." He teases.

"Oh go away now." She grins, unbuttoning her uniform jacket. "I'll call you when you're wanted."

Paul moves out of the kitchen and into the sitting room, smiling. How long, he can't help but think, since there's been something to smile about in this house.

The wireless is on in the kitchen and he can hear Sam singing along with the current song. Jane listens to the wireless sometimes, but she never sings and more often than not she uses it as an excuse not to converse with him.

He really can't find it in himself to miss her anymore. He doesn't dare hope that she'll have changed by the time she returns. He can't imagine what it will be like to live the rest of his life the way he has lately, coming home to an angry, uncommunicative, unaffectionate wife every night.

"Hello?" Sam's in the hall now, and soon pokes her head into the sitting room, "I say, do you know where the peeler is, for the potatoes?"

"Is it not in the drawer?"

"Can't find it there." Sam shrugs.

"I'll have a go." Paul rises and follows Sam back into the kitchen. The peeler is eventually located, hiding at the bottom of the full dish rack.

"There you are then, you can get back to work now." He says, moving to stand in the doorway.

"Thanks very much." Sam says before directing her attention back to the potatoes and carrots in front of her.

"Sam." Paul says, something nagging at him now that won't go away.

"Yes?" She turns back, smiling.

"I'd like it if you called me Paul."

"Oh."

"It's just, you don't call me anything now, not Milner either, and I thought that was maybe because you didn't know what was…what was appropriate, for lack of a better word." He's flustered now and she's blushing and he thought he'd outgrown this feeling years ago, but apparently not. "And after all, we all call you Sam, so why shouldn't you call me Paul?"

"Indeed, why not…Paul." Her cheeks are even pinker now and her smile brighter than usual and he thinks that if he weren't married to Jane, he would be tempted right now, that he would have to kiss her and let her infectious happiness spread into his life.

"Right. Well, let me know when the food's ready." He says quickly, slipping through the door and standing silently in the hall for a few seconds, taking deep breaths and forcing himself to think of something, anything else.


End file.
